


Where You Go, I Will Follow

by RinAsami



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Sad, Suicide, Tragic Romance, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:45:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAsami/pseuds/RinAsami
Summary: The world has been all but wiped out by a virus that turns humans into zombies. Yuri and Victor are fleeing to northern Russia where it’s coldest; where they can be around the least amount of people as possible. Tired and irritable, one wrong move changes everything.





	Where You Go, I Will Follow

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the stunning works of 阿猫_yayx' and her Resident Evil / YOI crossover artwork.  
> https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=63890941
> 
> This is my first attempt back in action with writing again. It's not my best work, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Oh, and please, grab tissues before starting. <3

 

 

* * *

 

Yuri staggered, clearing the sweat from his brow. Blowing out a puff of air, he stopped, bending over to rest his hands on his knees.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep walking…and walking…and WALKING!” He raised his voice unintentionally, taking his anger out on the only man that ever mattered in the entire world. A world that wasn’t much of anything any longer.

Victor stopped his fast pace a few yards ahead, turning and putting his hands on his hips. “You have to keep going. We can’t waste daylight, and it’s nearly dusk as it is.”

“No! I’m done. My feet hurt, my legs hurt, hell, my fucking hair hurts.” He pointed toward the rows of dilapidated houses to the left and right of them. “I’m staying in one of these for the night!” The man set his jaw, folding his arms for a moment, then running up to a home with a porch, plopping down under a window. Yuri pouted as he stared his husband down, who had walked over the sidewalk in front of the shack.

“I’m sure we’ll find no fuel inside—just like the other twenty fucking houses with cars had no gas either!” The younger man raised his voice further as he vented, all his frustrations and sadness spewing out at once. “Because of course, NO ONE IN FUCKING RUSSIA KEEPS GAS CANS FOR EMERGENCIES!!!” He pounded his fist on the cracked wooden deck to emphasize his mood.

Victor ran a dirt-stained hand through his unwashed silver hair, sighing and shaking his head. “Jesus, Yuri,” he said in a whispered shout. “Keep it down, will you? You’re gonna…”

“YURI!!!”

Yuri was ignoring half of what Victor was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t love or respect his husband, he did very much, but the stress and shock of just how dire their situation was, was beginning to wear on his entire being. He was angry and he wanted the world to know it.

Trauma changes a person and Yuri was no different. He never expected that saying goodbye to his family before going on a two week honeymoon to Russia would be the last time he would ever see them again. A new strain of virus was released into the atmosphere just days after they arrived. The day following, entire cities and whole countries were falling to the disease. Government agencies, last time the radio stations were transmitting, reported that the cause of the outbreak, be it intentional or accidental, was still unknown. Only three facts were ascertained in the last newscast— the bacteria was lethal, spread by a bite, and there was no cure. No cure, because it spread so rapidly, changing humans into mindless flesh eating rabbids, the scientific studies could not be done fast enough. Now, most of the earth’s population was already dead or changed.

Yuri’s eyes rolled up toward the sound, seeing Victor rushing toward him, hands flying in all directions—screaming. His brain registered the glass shattering behind his head the same time as the blood stained hand grasp onto his shirt, pulling him up toward the window. A flurry of punches rained down on the monster that bared its teeth and roared at it’s latest victim.  Yuri struggled to get out of the tight grip while reaching for the gun in his back waistband. The gun clattered to the ground as it was knocked from his hands as the creature dragged his forearm on a piece of shattered pane, causing him to scream and punch harder.

A swath of silver obstructed Yuri’s vision as the pain of the cut coursed through his arm. The man felt himself being flung from the window by a long pale arm, causing his back to connect with the top railing of the banister. After clearing the stars from his vision, Yuri watched with horror as his husband fought for his life against the deadly creature. Victor looked back for a mere moment to check on his love when a shot of pain radiated through his right bicep. On instinct he tore his arm violently away from the snapping teeth, tearing the delicate skin further. Ignoring the pulsing sting, he reached out for the gun that had fallen a few feet away. One shot is all it took to stop the gnashing teeth and growling moans. Victor dropped the pistol, falling flat on his back, laying down on the splintery boards to catch his breath.

Yuri was only able to observe for the first few minutes after his husband was free of the attacker. The younger man didn’t want to believe what he’d seen. If he did, it would mean the man he held most dear would be gone from him forever, just like his family, within hours. He didn’t realize he was crying until the tears collected and dampened his torn shirt. Yuri didn’t care about the searing pain from the gash in his arm—that he could handle. What he couldn’t handle; however, was the fact that he had, more or less, witnessed Victor’s death. Of course, Victor was alive and breathing as he lay just feet away from his love, but he and Yuri knew that it was all the same. Victor Nikiforov was a dead man—his body just hadn’t caught up yet.

Victor rose in silence, taking off his shirt and tearing it at the end to make a tourniquet. The damage to his upper arm was severe, not that it mattered in the grand scheme of unfortunate events. He sucked in a sharp breath as he wrapped one part of the shirt over the wound and the other tied tightly right above the bite, closer to his armpit. Despite Victor’s fair state, his first coherent thought was of his lover. If Yuri didn’t come out of the confrontation unscathed, then his efforts and soon to be loss would have been for nothing.

“Yuri,” Victor whispered after he scooted over to check on his husband. “Baby, are you alright? Did it bite you?” Yuri whimpered as he snuggled into the warm hand that was placed upon his tear streaked cheek.

Reddened brown eyes flicked up to meet worried blue. Stuttering at first, Yuri was able to get out the words, “I’m okay,” after a couple of tries. He confirmed a second time with a squeeze to his hand. “Yeah, I’m okay. But, you aren’t!” More tears and heaving breaths broke the stillness of the abandoned town. “Victor! Oh, god, Victor!” Yuri was going into panic.

“Shhh. Yuri, calm down. Listen to me.” Victor held the other’s face with both hands, ensuring the other’s full attention. “Yuri, we need to get your arm bandaged. Okay? That is what we need to do _right now_. Understand?” Yuri was unresponsive; eyes fixed on the t-shirt wrapped bicep in front of him. A snap of fingers helped him focus on his husband’s face once more. “Do you understand want I said, Yuri? Shake your head yes if you do.”

Yuri pulled his face out of the warm hands, shaking his head. “Ye…Yes. I understand,” he said with a hoarse voice. He throat was suddenly dry as if he’d been out of waters for days.

“Good.” Victor stood, wobbly at first, then moved to help his other half stand. “Let’s go back to that huge mansion you saw further back. They may have a basement safe room or something.” Yuri allowed himself to be pulled up and escorted in the direction they came. The younger man couldn’t trust himself to speak at the moment for fear of bursting into ugly sobs which would attract more unwanted attention.

 

* * *

 

 

Victor swept through the mansion, room by room, gun at the ready. He didn’t trust his husband’s mental state to help with the sweep; the younger man waited in silence on the first floor.

Yuri fidgeted, picking the skin at his fingers, listening for any signs of danger. All was quiet except for a hacking cough that rattled from Victor’s chest as he marched down the stairs to join his husband. As Yuri felt the other’s presence in front of him, mocha eyes flicked up to meet hazy blue. Yuri put his hand over his mouth, murmuring, “My God,” as he looked his husband up and down.

Victor was sweating profusely, the shaking of the gun in his hand almost drowned out the wheezing coming from his ragged breathing. Still, the man managed an almost heart shaped smile as he tucked the gun in his back, then collecting his husband’s hands to give them a sweet kiss.

“I found a a room in the basement that would be safe to hold up in a few days. It’s got a stash of canned beans and a jug of water—even a bed for you to rest on.” Victor took the other’s hand, guiding him through to the basement stairs. Yuri didn’t speak upon descent, so Victor continued. “I’ll draw you a map of how to get out of this neighborhood and onto the main road before I leave. I’ll make…”

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘No.’?” The older man stopped and turned, putting his hands on Yuri’s shoulders. “Yuri, I can’t be near you when…when…you know.” Yuri sniffed and wiped fresh tears from his eyes. He clasped his husband’s wrists.

“No, as in, you’re not leaving. I’m not letting you off yourself. It was…my fault, so I will…”

Victor put a finger to the other’s lips. “No, don’t finish that sentence. Baby, I don’t get all dominate on you often, but this time I will. I will _not_ let something like that be on your conscience. And your last memories of me _will not_ be of my brains splattered all over the wall and the gun in your hand!” Silver hair mingled with black as Victor rested his forehead against Yuri’s, placing a kiss on his nose.

Yuri threaded his shaky fingers into the hair above him, massaging the scalp as he did thousands of times before. It hurt knowing that this time would be one of his last.

“Honey, it’s already on my conscience. I blame myself and will always blame myself—nothing will change that.” He started walking forward with Victor still in his hands, pushing him into the small basement room. “But, I’m not letting you die alone. Period.”

The younger man leaned around his love, noting how far the bed was away from them. Giving Victor a good shove, the man landed with a bounce on the bed, metal chains clinking as the frame shook.

“I see you already figured I wouldn’t let you leave, huh?” Yuri asked with a hint of a grin. “You had chains ready to tie yourself up.”

The heart-shaped grin was back, only the pink of his lips were muted—a gray tint settling on the once plump softness. “I had to try.” Victor looked up sheepishly, reaching over to secure a wrist to the chained bed frame.

Shaking his head, Yuri crawled up the bed, settling to straddle his husband. A torn bloody shirt was tossed aside, earning a whistle from the other. The younger man began with light pecks up the bare abdomen trapped between his thighs. A hand shot up, stopping him from lapping at a delicious looking nipple.

“Yuri, what are you doing?” Victor tried to push him up, but unable to with a sudden weakness that spread throughout his arms. “Your wound. You need to clean it up. Go in the…” A demanding kiss silenced the protests, almost succeeding in distracting the silver-haired man.

Victor pulled his head away. “No, we can’t do this, my love. It’s dangerous.” He pushed on the other’s chest, urging him to see reason.

“Stop worrying.” Yuri pulled a small gun out of his back and slid it under a dirty pillow at the top of the bed. “See, I have protection if I need it.”

“But, Yuri, I could…”

“Shhh.” Kisses and nips ran from Victor’s ear lobe down to his clavicle. Yuri pulled up to smooth his hands over his husband’s cheeks and around to the back of his head. “Baby, are you really going to deny me a last fuck with my husband of not even two weeks?” As he gulped the sweat dripped off his adam’s apple. “Are you _really_ going to do that?”

The enamored man wheezed out a shaky, “N-no,” before reaching for his own belt. Yuri was out of his pants in a flash, yanking Victor’s down and off in a smooth motion moments after. Naked, Yuri attacked the small bedside table, tearing drawers open and rummaging through. After a few books and charging cables went flying, he found what he was looking for, holding up a small white tube. He grinned at Victor, trying his hardest to ignore the fact that his husband’s skin already had taken on an ashen appearance. “Body lotion will have to do.” Yuri winked and slid back on the bed.

The pair collided in a flurry of tongues and teeth. Yuri rolled his hips, earning a deep moan from the other. Reaching down, he was pleased to feel that despite what was to come, Victor was still very eager and able to give Yuri his last request.

Victor gasped as he was deep throated in one gulp. Sucks and licks to his tip had the older man thrusting up into the warm mouth, one hand firmly planted in the dark hair above his crotch. “Mmm, Yuri. If you keep that up…”

Yuri sat up, hovering over the mass between his husband’s legs, working the organ with rose scented lotion. “I love you, Victor. Don’t ever forget that.” He teased his entrance with the bulbous head, dipping it in and out ever so slightly. “And don’t ever forget how much my ass loves your cock.”

A shout followed by a few hacking coughs broke the stillness of the small room as Victor was enveloped in the silky warmth of his lover. Yuri was tight, very tight, as he did no preparation, which worried the older man.

“Are you, okay? Why did you do that?” Victor asked as he ran his shaky fingers down the length of the other’s spine.

Deep tongued kisses were given before any real answer. Victor hesitantly returned the kisses; concern etched on his face.

“We don’t have a lot of time. I know that; I’m not stupid. I’ll be alright, Sweetheart. Just…make love to me.”

Victor drew in a ragged breath, but pushed his hips up, settling his hands, now prominently covered in spider veins, on his husband’s hips. Yuri seemed pleased with the answer, slowly dragging himself off the mass and shoving himself down again. Moans and slapping skin began echoing off the walls as he continued with his slow torture. He wanted to make this last, but in reality, knew he could not.

The pair whispered cries of love to one another as they were encapsulated in lust. Yuri held back a sniffle as he lay on Victor’s chest, hearing the slowing heartbeat, despite their rigorous activities. His walls squeezed his lover as he gyrated his hips, but the moans were much fainter this time.

Yuri sat up, pulling Victor with him, ensuring they didn’t lose their connection. Victor’s chained hand came up to clear the sweat from the other’s face, placing a kiss on the cleaned skin. “Yuri,” His voice was low, pained. “I don’t know how much longer I can…I don’t feel…right.”

The tears that collected in those once brightly shining blue eyes hurt Yuri the most. He never wanted to see his husband cry. He thought he’d have many years together to make sure that didn’t happen, but now, they had only minutes, if they were lucky—a half-hour.

Kissing the hand near his cheek, Yuri unfastened the chain around Victor’s wrist, tossing in far to the side.

“Yuri! No, don’t! I can’t be able to run after you.”

Yuri stayed silent, not trusting his voice as he took in the dark veins creeping up on the once flawless face. Squeezing his walls once more to bring the member inside him to full hardness, he steeled himself and spoke. “Make love to your husband, Victor Nikiforov. Don’t think, just enjoy being inside me.” It came out more of a demand than words of loving tenderness. No matter the harshness, Victor complied, running his hands down Yuri’s ass, squeezing them as hard as he was able, pushing upward.

The pair fell into a rhythm of Yuri slamming down hard and Victor pushing to meet him. Sloppy kisses and roaming hands made the pair nearly forget their horrid situation. Almost, but not quite. Yuri cringed as he felt his husband cease to meet his thrusts, moans turning into raspy gurgles. He didn’t need to pull away to see the man he loved was fading fast—it would be moments now.

He cradled Victor's face to his neck, turning to give the veiny grayed cheek a tearful kiss. “Goodbye, my love.”

Yuri felt the warmth bloom inside him—Victor's last proof of love and devotion before losing himself. As the younger man rode out his own orgasm, he concentrated on the feeling of bliss to distract himself from the tearing sensation in his shoulder. Rivulets of red chased the sweat droplets as they raced down Yuri's torso, coming together and mixing in a pool below.

Victor slipped out of his lover, who now was nothing but precious flesh to consume. He clawed at the unprotected back, creating deep wounds that erupted instantly. Yuri whimpered as his body was mauled, but he didn't pull away, only pushing down to pin Victor to the bed as a hand crept under the scattered pillows.

"I love you, Victor," Yuri whispered before repeating the words within a scream. He didn't dare look down to see what was left of his muscular chest; he didn't need to—he could feel that his sensitive nubs, Victor's favorite spot to tease, were now gone. "I'm sorry, Baby. I'm sorry I couldn't save you." The admission was garbled, full of choked sobs. Victor growled in response, jabbing him in the ribs in an attempt to force the younger man off him.

Yuri knew he didn't have much time left; he was losing a lot of blood. His vision was fading, and his resolve to keep the man, _the thing,_ under him down was dwindling. His hand shook violently as he gripped the cool metal in his right hand. Victor was thrashing so he wasn't able to rest the barrel against the man's temple for a clean shot. He hoped one bullet was all it would take.

"I'll see you soon." Yuri cupped Victor's face for just a moment, unable to hold his lover longer. Victor's nose had registered the close scent against his face before he felt it. The minute touch had his head jerking to the side to snap at the fresh meat that was offered next to his mouth. Sharp teeth attacked Yuri's arm, severing the fragile tendons within. His hand slid from the cold skin as his arm was mauled, all feeling having been lost in the appendage. It didn't matter to Yuri how much pain Victor put him through—it would be over quickly. “Take what you need, baby. You’re inside me, I may as well be inside you too,” he choked out between harsh breathes and heaving sobs.

Pointing the pistol at the side of Victor's head, now distracted by the other's bleeding arm, Yuri pulled the trigger.

The sound was so loud, shockingly so in the tiny room. It was like an out of body experience for the younger man, as if someone else had pulled the trigger, ending the life of the one person he swore to protect. Yuri watched as if in slow motion as the body fell back onto the bed, blood pooling quickly, covering the sheets. For a split second, Yuri was disgusted with himself—he was now a murderer. The truth was not far behind, however. In his heart, the man knew that Victor Nikiforov's life was over the moment he was bitten. Yuri had not committed a crime, but a kindness.

He would do himself that same kindness.

Time was of the essence; Yuri could not allow himself to pass out only to become one of them. He didn't want to live in a world without Victor— especially not one that had become as fucked up as this one. He was not a brave man, so he made sure he would be able to take his own life by giving Victor the monster what it craved—his flesh.

Yuri, still seated on top of his love, leaned down to rest his forehead on the remnants of the other's, placing the gun at his own temple. Gulping, he cocked the weapon. Closing his eyes, tears streaming down his face, he thought back to all the wonderful times the pair shared. The awkward meeting. Their first date. Victor's proposal. Their wedding day.

With the image of two lovers gazing at each other in front of hundreds of people focused in Yuri's mind, the man ended his life with one final pull of the trigger.

 

* * *

 

Victor had assumed Yuri would want to continue living his life long after he’d passed. However, he forgot one crucial promise. Their wedding vows. Yuri swore to not only love and cherish his husband, Victor Nikiforov, but to also stay by his side, following him to the ends of the earth if necessary. And he meant it. The pair were soul mates; one couldn’t exist without the other. Yuri Katsuki died knowing that, no matter what happened after death, he and his husband would be together. And _that_ was the only thing that ever _really_ mattered.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

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